


Gotham's Children

by TransformersG1fan271



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Fiction, General fiction, Literature, Short Stories, prose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 09:51:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/pseuds/TransformersG1fan271
Summary: An account of how Gotham gained her most renowned children.





	1. Scarecrow

**Author's Note:**

> This will be an ongoing thing I started a long time ago.

Jonathan double checked to make sure he had everything packed, squinting to see in the darkness that belonged to three in the morning, his meager belongings fitting inside one old suitcase quite easily. With a bit of a smile he stepped onto the train that pulled up alongside the station, the 20 year old the only passenger boarding in the middle of the night. He watched as the train slowly started up and passed the little backwater town he had been unfortunate enough to grow up in, soon out of sight as he settled in for the several day travel ahead of him. Young Jonathan Crane was making his way to Gotham City in hopes of starting a new life, as he would now be out of the clutches of his evil witch of a grandmother and free to do as he pleased. He couldn’t help but gape in awe as the big city came into view five days later, practically trying to push his head out the window to try and take in the view of the absolutely massive buildings. Once he disembarked he was thrown into the chaos of a busy Monday morning in Gotham, the poor boy pushed left and right until he managed to come across an alcove to observe the people passing by without a glance. The staggering amount of people just was overwhelming, as he had grown up around the same 79 people all of his life, and to see hundreds upon hundreds was quite a sight for him. He eventually made his way towards the hotel he had picked out, grimacing a bit at the state of his room but knew he had shelter at least.

Or he did for two days before the nasty underbelly of Gotham started to show, his landlord shot to death and everyone told to hit the streets or they would suffer the same fate. Jonathan grabbed his bag and shimmed down the fire escape, running as he had no desire to be murdered. He ended up sleeping near a subway station, sighing as he wondered what his next plan would be. He only had enough money to survive on for so long, and with criminals in abundance on the streets he had to find a way to not only keep it, but survive.

Six months later found Jonathan in an old apartment building, having made a little place for himself amongst the drugged up vagrants in the lower floors. He had done pretty well for himself, keeping out of sight of thugs while doing odd jobs for cash to live on, but good things only seemed to last for a fleeting moment in Gotham, the now 21 year old returning back to find his home demolished. As he picked through the rubble he failed to hear some mobsters coming towards him, ready to kill the innocent looking teen for his money and just for fun really. At the last second one of them coughed, and Jonathan began to sprint for his life, knocked down by two bullets in his right leg.

“Nice try kid.” One of them snickered, picking up the young male by the throat, giving him a look over while Jonathan gagged for air. “He’s kinda good lookin for a kid, maybe we outta have a little fun boys.” His companions snickered as Crane struggled even more, managing to kick the one holding him in the crotch. The second he hit the floor Crane grabbed his gun and fired, killing the thug closest to him with a headshot, doing the same for the other two who stood still in shock before they could react.

“Oh…oh god…” He panted as he looked at the gun in his hand with a horrified look, growing lightheaded as the blood-loss started to work its way past the adrenaline. The gun clattered against the concrete as he sagged back, the world slowing turning to black around him. He never expected to wake up again, finding himself in a ratty hospital all patched up, vanishing without a word that night after stealing a wheelchair. It was the first time he had ever stolen anything. It wasn’t going to be the last. Jonathan worked hard and started going to college with what meager money he was earning with his jobs, eventually making enough to rent out a small apartment that was close to one of his jobs and for a few years it seemed to be going well for him. He had even met a guy that was in one of his classes, their relationship cut short but it was enjoyable nonetheless as Jonathan had never been able to express himself in such a way living in a backroads southern Christian town. But it wasn’t to last, Gotham rearing its head once more, but not in a physical manner but in a psychological one. Jonathan had always been fascinated with the study of fear, and being put in charge of students after graduation and his swift ascension into tenure of the very college that had taught him awoke something in the professor.

It started with simple things, like causing his students to be frightened under the guise of a teaching, but it began to escalate once he produced his very first crude batch of fear toxin sprinkled on top of their assignments. Most were unaffected, others it only caused an uncomfortable feeling but nothing more, Jonathan unimpressed but never let it show as he began the lesson like he always did. A semester later a jock suffered some sort of breakdown and was rushed to the hospital, Jonathan grinning to himself behind the crowd of curious students and staff. It took him another year to produce his toxin to cause fear, but by then the young 28 year old was beginning to draw suspicion from his peers and directors, causing an investigation that turned up nothing. The Dean caused the removal of his tenure once it came to light that Crane liked to scare his students so much they would be unable to flee from his classroom during the entire lesson, as if bound by something they could not see.

Gotham claimed one of her own that very night he was fired, a child by the name Scarecrow. He was the first of her children to become something more than the common criminal or mob boss, something born of nothing but the deepest pit of despair and anger.

He was something Gotham had never seen before, and Jonathan was just the start.  
  



	2. Riddler

Edward Nashton had grown up on the border of Gotham City for as long as he could remember. His father had been lucky enough to keep his son away from the city. Then again, for poor Edward that was not necessarily a good thing. The nightly abuse was all too easily waved away from the public limelight, leaving the boy to wonder what it would be like to be in the city. Surely the mobs weren’t as bad as his father? Surely, he could survive on the streets, he was smarter than everyone he knew. At the age of nine Edward ran away, able to make it rather far into the city before the GCPD found him and returning him to his “distraught” father.  
  
The beating had been worth it, as Edward had gotten his first glimpse of the rampant crime. This day remained cemented in his mind as he grew. When he was 18 Edward left, going to a college in Canada much to his father’s anger, where he studied for years. It was here he honed his showmanship skills, creating the beginnings of his criminal network. His father, a pivotal character that had bound resentment and anger into Edward’s very core, went missing shortly before his return. The suave and cynical Edward Nashton was only cooperative during his father’s investigation, shedding tears when he was declared missing, with little hope of recovery. For some time, Edward immersed himself into innocent IT jobs, working at the GCPD cyber crimes unit by 27. However, it was not to last, the newly minted Captain Gordon discovering his embezzlement and extortion by the time Edward had hit 30. He was fired, discreetly done due to pay-offs, Edward vanishing into what seemed thin air.  
  
Months later he returned, his father murdered in a spectacular fashion before a live audience. Gotham claimed a second child that day, the Riddler being dragged to the Asylum with only a cool smirk upon his lips.   
  
While not the most proficient physically or bloody, his vast and ever-growing network or informants kept Riddler cemented in the city, always lingering in the shadows until he would strike.


End file.
